


Mariana Trench

by NozomiMatsuura (orphan_account)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Abusive Howard Stark, Aged Down Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - High School, Foster Care, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, It's Fact, M/M, They're both 17, Tony's A Bad Boy, buT ALSO SO SOFT, so nice, we STAN
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NozomiMatsuura
Summary: After Peter Parker's aunt, May, grows too ill to care for him, the seventeen-year-old moves cross-country to Queens, NYC where he meets the ever so enticing Tony Stark





	Mariana Trench

_Back then we were trading_  
_Cards behind the swing_  
_Oh no, now its money, gold_  
_And diamond rings_  
_Now those days are over_  
_And we are all ghosts_

 

_99_

 

_\--------_

 

"Okay, see you later, bye!" Peter called over his back-pack covered shoulder as he finished lacing up a pair of scuffed black converse. He pushed open the door and quickly ran down the stairwell of their new apartment building.

He'd recently moved to Queens from Oregon after his Aunt May grew too sick to care for him, a foster family all the way in New York City took interest in him and before he knew it he was on the next flight there. The couple seemed nice enough, an inexperienced couple in their thirties who were more than happy to take in a seventeen-year-old boy. Peter hummed softly to himself as he reached the lobby.

He plugged a pair of cheap headphones - that crackled in his ears noisily when he moved too quickly - into his shattered phone. Music began to play as he unlocked and jumped onto his old bike and started the half-hour trip to his new school. Midtown School of Science and Technology. Sounds a bit pretentious, if you ask Peter.

 

/

 

Peter stood in front of his new locker. A tall, tan coloured thing with the paint chipping at the edges. And he couldn't quite figure out how to open it.

He played with the combination lock, putting in the numbers scrawled on a neon yellow post-it note the receptionist had given him without a second glance. It didn't open. He tried again slowly, triple checking the slightly faded numbers. Still locked. Peter huffed in annoyance, slinging his bag back over his shoulder and reaching his hand out to try unlocking it for the third time.

A hand on his shoulder interrupted him, yanking him back by his maroon hoodie and stepping in front of him. Peter scrunched his nose up as he heard the lock click and the door swung open.  _This must be his locker-mate. Buddy? Whatever._

"Fuck off." He heard the taller boy hiss. 

"I'm sorry?' Peter asked, fiddling with the belt loop of his black skinny jeans, rubbing the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger to ground himself and stop him from lashing out at the guy.

"Trying to break into my locker. Fuck. Off" The boy repeated, rummaging through the locker and taking off the black army jacket he was wearing and shoving it into the cramped space.

"Er- No. I'm Peter, I just moved here and this - the receptionist... she said that this is my locker."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." The boy slammed his head against the metal - it clanged loudly in the now empty hallway. "I don't care who you a-" The taller boy turned around, piercing brown eyes meeting Peters. His eyebrows furrowed together as he stared down at Peter, who merely looked up at him through his wind-tousled hair.

"Tony!" A voice called from the other end of the hall. A tall, brown boy was standing there looking expectantly at the boy in front of Peter - so his name was Tony, then?

"You can use the locker. Just don't touch my shit." And with that, Tony stalked down the hall to meet with the other boy who fist-bumped him and they turned a corner, leaving Peter standing alone in the deserted hallway. 

Peter only sighed and shoved his backpack into the small locker - it barely fit.

He slammed the metal door shut and made his way to first class.

 Science, his favourite... he hopes.

 

/

 

Peter ate his lunch on the bleachers. It seemed everyone at this school hated him already, judgemental stares were sent his way the second he entered the crowded cafeteria, which he then quickly fled when the weight of the glares became too much. He was currently listening to some Barns Courtney and picking at a damp, wilted salad his foster mother, Amelia, packed for him. She didn't exactly know how to cook, he'd noticed that the first night when she nearly burned down his new families two bedroom apartment in an attempt to make lasagna.

A group of boys were kicking a ball between one another, and his new locker-mate, Tony was one of them. Their laughs and screams mixed with the music playing through his white earbuds and Peter found himself more engrossed in their game than his soggy lunch. Tony's dark brown eyes creased at the corners as he grinned at his friends. Peter could see a group of six pretty, blonde girls all smiling at Tony and sticking their chests out. Suddenly he's not hungry at all anymore.

He watched the boys in mild interest for five or so minutes before he was interrupted by the ball flying at his face. Peter didn't even have time to react when it hit him square in his right eye, bouncing off onto the grass. A hiss escaped Peters' chapped lips as he placed the heel of his palm to his eye, said eye watering up at the sudden hit. The boys went quiet as a tall boy that Peter couldn't quite make out approached him.

"You a'ight?" It was Tony.

Peter opened his watery eye to look up at the boy, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, I'm gonna take this guy to the nurse! You hit him right in the eye, dickhead," Tony called behind him to a tall boy with blonde hair and purple hearing aids, who merely shrugged in an apology and raised his left hand in a silent "sorry". Peter simply nodded back, dark brown hair brushing his eyelashes as Tony began to talk to him as Peter followed him through the halls. He wasn't properly listening.

Peter stopped him halfway to the nurses' office, the pair were alone in a small, deserted hallway when he reached out with his hand to grab the taller boys wrist.

"I'm okay, actually. I - You... It's fine, you don't need to do this." Peter mumbled, bony fingers still wrapped around Tony's arm, his pale skin clashing with the boys' sunkissed complexion. Tony was wearing only a t-shirt now, which clung nicely to his frame, Peter mused.

Tony sighed.

"I know. I just didn't want you to get hurt again." The boy admitted, not even noticing their prolonged contact.

"Er- right. And you care why?" Peter raised an eyebrow, finally letting go of Tony's wrist and folding his arms together in what he hoped was a questioning manner. He stepped backwards and leaned his back against a poster-covered wall.

"Well, I know that new kids get treated like shit. I was new too, just joined last year." Tony shrugged, moving to lean with Peter who didn't protest. "I guess I don't want you to be treated like I was when I first came here, y'know?"

Peter nodded slightly.

"Fair enough."

Tony then cleared his throat loudly, looking down at Peter with a soft smile.

"If you'd like to, you can... uhm, hang out with me." The older boy grinned, white teeth gleaming and eyes shimmering with hope. Peter smiled back half-sincerely. 

 

 

 

And he said he'd like that.

 

 

 


End file.
